Yankee Doodle Drabbles
by Shock Factor
Summary: Random snippets from the WW2 careers of American Shipgirls- and Shipboys, for that matter. Includes appearances from the Kancolle cast. Rated for violence, profanity, and PTSD.
1. Chapter 1

Location- Guadalcanal, 13 November 1942, 1105 hours  
Ships- USS _Juneau, San Francisco, Helena.  
_  
The three cruisers puttered along, voices echoing loudly over the waves. San Francisco readjusted his satchel and smiled. "Extra, extra, read all about it, Japs get their ass kicked and can't do shit about it!" Both of his mates snickered at his usual quips, but Juneau is soon deathly quiet. Helena gives him a side eye. "You okay, Juneau?"

Juneau held his side and grinned weakly. "I'm okay… just a torpedo hit. I'm on one screw." To illustrate his point, he points to his foot. The propeller like spur- and, by extension, the left foot it was attached to- were mangled badly. San Francisco laughed aloud, and pointed at his ruined shoes. "Atlanta would be chewing me the fuck out right now," the paperboy cruiser said, that million dollar grin still plastered to his face. "' Stop being such a damn fool!'" he yelled, imitating his senior's country accent.

Juneau chuckled once more at the foolishness of it. "Okay, that was actually pretty damned good," he said, a few locks of golden hair settling over his face. Sure, he was in a lot of pain, but to be able to laugh in the middle of a war was a blessing- a blessing few bestowed as graciously as San Francisco. San Francisco, however, was not finished. He proceeded to pull his face into an exaggerated scowl, and huffed in faux anger as he stomped to a halt. "I'm the fucking AA cruiser Atlanta! Where's my damn peaches!? How come you battleships get bigger guns? Fuck you, San Francisco, you don't know shit! YOU ARE A BITCH, SAN FRANCISCO! WHY DO YOU EVEN EXIST!?" The more San Francisco fake ranted, the harder Juneau was laughing, his smile becoming more and more genuine by the moment.

Helena was about to tell San Francisco how dumb he sounded, when something happened. Her radar pinged once, twice, three times. She looked over her shoulder, and saw two torpedoes streaking across the water. They were heading straight for San Francisco. "San Fran, watch out!" The redhead cruiser turned to look at where she was pointing, and hit a full reverse. However, the torpedoes were already wide. San Francisco wiped a bead of sweat off his brow, sighing in relief. "Well, that was close!"

His train of thought was then violently derailed by an explosion.

Both Helena and San Francisco whipped around to the source, only to find that their worst fears were correct. The area where Juneau once was now a spray of foam, tattered cloth, and a conning tower. It was as if Juneau had disintegrated into the sea. Helena looked over to her surviving formation mate, who had a distant look in his eye.

"There's no way anyone could have survived that…" he said, deathly quiet. "No way…" Helena had heard from Juneau that five brothers were part of his crew. To think of the poor family that got that telegram… but Helena had an odd feeling that, maybe, just maybe, someone survived. She felt a hand on her shoulder, a hand once soft and gentle, turned calloused and forceful by war. She looked back at San Fran, who appeared to be having trouble finding words. "We need to go. That was definitely a submarine. If we loiter around, they might strike again."

Helena nodded, and began to walk away. She heard the sound of San Francisco kneeling in the water and grabbing something, then running to rejoin her. He was holding Juneau's aft battery. It blinked a couple of times, before making a whining sound. San Francisco just stuffed it in his satchel.


	2. Chapter 2

Location- Guadalcanal, 14 November, 1942. Unknown time  
Characters- USS _South Dakota, Washington,_ IJN _Kirishima_

Damn, South Dakota was fucked.

He couldn't get any power to his radar or comms systems, so for all intents and purposes, he was near blind and deaf. He knew there were cruisers on- Damn it, that was the 24th hit today - there were cruisers on the prowl, and at least one Japanese battleship. He needed to take out that battleship before it shredded him like Swiss cheese. He saw a small destroyer near him headed straight for the USS Gwin. He turned to aim his 5 inch batteries at her, and let loose. A loud thud, followed by an equally loud bang, and the destroyer's frantic grabbing at the stump that used to be her arm, signaled to him that this problem was dealt with- son of a bitch, that's number 25- WHO KEPT FUCKING SHOOTING HIM!?

South tried to stifle the leaking blood from his chest and gut, but continual fire dulled his focus. He couldn't sink here, he swore that he'd see the end of this shitty war. He was blindly firing his weapons in the general direction of his foes, when suddenly, a looming figure appeared off his starboard. It was big, REALLY big, and it was as fast as hell, too. As its silhouette became notable, South Dakota recoiled in an equal mix of dread and shock.

Kirishima.

Under any other circumstance, South would call her the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her glossy hair, those clear, yet deep eyes… Then again, this wasn't a normal situation. He was about to die.

He raised his gun to fire at her, but another raking hit from her main guns socked him right in the chin. He felt blood running slick down his face, and a searing pain over the right side of it. As he felt around for an idea, he could feel his dislocated jaw, exposed to the elements after the smoldering flesh around it burned away. Kirishima, if only for a moment, showed in her features what appeared to be disgust at what she had done, but it was gone in a moment. She raised her hand, her cannons following her movement, when another large figure appeared behind her.

The figure raised what appeared to be some sort of gauntlet, the moonlight highlighting the white suitcoat he wore. Of course, the majority of it was bloodstained, now, but who counted that? The tip of all three of the gauntlet's barrels pressed against the back of Kirishima, who froze. She trembled as one of her guns turned to face the presence behind her.

"Next time… pay attention to your surroundings." The being said, before emptying three shots straight to the meat. Before she could even fall, Kirishima was swatted aside by the entity, revealing a mop of white hair and piercing red eyes. She managed to stumble off, the previously crippled destroyer following her like a lost puppy. The red eyes focused on South Dakota. "Need a hand, South?" he asked, extending a hand to him.

South Dakota took a firm hold of his hand. "I owe you big time, Washington." The other battleship pulled him to his feet, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You promised we'd make it through this," Wash said, winking. "Remember? For everyone who didn't?"

"Yeah," South said, nodding his head. "For everyone who didn't."


	3. Chapter 3

I know I said "Yankee", but this has been bouncing around in my head a while.

Location: [CLASSIFIED], England.  
Ships: IJN _Kongou_ , HMS _Repulse_ , _Warspite, Glorious, Prince Of Wales, Express, HMAS Vampire.  
_  
It was raining in the shipyard, as always. If she had a choice, Kongou would be in Japan, where at least she would be among friends. Plus, this corset thing was KILLING her. Fashionable, yes, but comfortable? Absolutely NOT. She sighed, leaning against the wall of the nearby seaplane hangar. Unfortunately, a gust of wind happened by, and blew foamy English brine into her eyes and mouth.

After about ten minutes of raking her tongue and trying to somehow flush the TERRIBLE TERRIBLE TERRIBLE salt water out of her eyes, she heard a loud cry that had become quite familiar.

"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNING LOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE!"

A gargantuan of a battleship plowed into the hapless carrier anchored near her. The poor fellow seemed absolutely mortified. "Warspite!" he shouted, "Why must you always do that!? You'll give me a coronary!" The big battleship girl pats him a little too roughly on the back. "My apologies, wee Glorious, I get a little barmy in this weather. Good to be among mates, no?"

Glorious sighs as he's half thrown into the waves by the force of Warspite's hand. He raises his head from the surf and coughs loudly, a small mackerel flying from his mouth. "Not always, ya git…" he murmurs. "Why don't ya go bust Renown's arse?" he asks. "He's always glad to see ya."

"Good idea, Glorious!" The battleship cries, forcing him back down into the water with another smack-pat. She immediately runs off to find the older battlecruiser, leaving Kongou to blink in a mix of awe and confusion. She shook her head after seeing the little fella get up, and decided to head back to her berth.

ABOUT AN HOUR LATER

Kongou could feel the beginnings of a cold coming on. She KNEW she had forgotten her parasol, but only expected to be gone for a few minutes. She hadn't counted getting lost! She was FREEZING, and it was raining even harder than before. Suddenly, the raindrops stopped falling on her head, and a slight shade came over her.

"You look a bit cold, ma'am." A gruff voice says. "You're in the dodgy part of town here. You mind if I accompany you?"

She looked back at the owner of the voice, a tall, ruddy looking man. She recognized him from the docks- he was across the pier from her. Repair? Redoubler?

"What's your name, sir?" she asked. "I can't seem to recall…"

"Repulse. HMS Repulse. Of the Renown-class battlecruisers. Aren't you the exchange girl?" he asked, tilting his head, the black umbrella casting a dark curtain over his face.

"Kongou. Lead battlecruiser of my class." She answered, smiling. "Nice to meet you."

He smiled back, a small upward twitch of the lips. She blushed and looked away for a moment. He was handsome, in a rough, country way. She looked at him again, giving his body an examination. He was very broad shouldered, the muscles taut underneath his coat and shirt. His-

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, nothing's wrong, nothing's wrong. I just got distracted…"

"I can't be fagged to understand you Japanese." He said. "So prim and proper about everything, yet so easily flustered. Come on, let's head back to the docks."

So they did, talking about their specs, their weapon loads, their top speeds, then moving on to other, more civil matters- the best places to eat, the big tourist spots, all of that. Kongou found herself enjoying Repulse's company, and his expressions. The English had 5 ways of saying EVERYTHING!

Repulse would be lying if he said he didn't like this new girl. She was easy on the eyes, yes, but she was a proper one, she was. A little goofy, but, then again, he was in the same fleet as Warspite and Renown. He knew crazy.

ABOUT ANOTHER HOUR LATER

The pair approached the docks, still talking about random things.

"…and what the bloomin' hell does 'desu' even mean? I hear it EVERY TIME there's a tourist here!" Repulse asks, rubbing his temples, annoyed. "I mean, cor blimey! It's desu this, desu that, desudesudesudesudesu-"

"It's a politeness article. A term of respect." She answered, winking. "Desu!"

"Okay, stop that!" he said, moving the umbrella so that the rain falls on her head again. She grabbed her already frazzled hair, whining as he puts the umbrella back over her head, his normal smirk now an ear to ear grin.

"Well… I have a question for you! What's a Chelsea smile?" she asked, her finger under chin.

Repulse blanched. "Let's not talk about that. It's not pleasant."

She nods, looking down at her wrist. "Oh, my, it's getting late! The crew will wonder where I am. I have to go, Mr. Repulse. Sorry!"

"Don't call me Mister. It makes me feel like an old codge. I may be a Great War vet, but I ain't as crusty as Renown." He said, shaking his fist at her.

"Oh, hush, you," she admonished him, "or I won't make you any lunch tomorrow."

"Now that's uncalled for." He said, turning to leave. "I guess that would make our next rendezvous null and void."

"Noooo!" she whined, before covering her mouth. "I mean, go for it! Go on, go home!"

"See you tomorrow, Kongou," he said through chuckles. "Take care."

As he said, they met the next day, and the one after that, and the one after that, and so on for at least six months. Even when she left for Japan, they exchanged frequencies, so that when no one paid attention, they could talk again. One day, he told her that Germany declared war on Britain again. They didn't talk as long that day. Then came the day that Britain declared war on Japan. December 8th, 1941.

" _We can't talk anymore, Kongou. It's too dangerous."_

" _I know, Repulse, but… we could keep it a secret!"_

" _And what if we fight? What if I hurt you, or you hurt me? Or Hiei, or Wales? What if they find out we're talking? What will they say? We can't. If there were any other option, you know I'd take it."_

"… _It's not fair."_

" _I know. Just do me a favor."_

" _Anything."_

" _Forget me."_

"… _I-"_

There was not even a sound on the other end.

TWO DAYS LATER, DECEMBER 10th, 1941.

LOCATION: SOMEWHERE OFF MALAYSIA

"INCOMING!" HMAS Vampire shouted, pointing an AA cannon to the sky and throwing up a wall of lead.

Repulse looked at the torpedoes heading in his direction, and sidestepped them. His armor shone in the light, and his new compatriot, Prince of Wales, foundered beside him, clutched an angry, pulsing wound in his side. Repulse wasn't too great- he had a nasty gash across his face from a bomb impact.

He could tell it was almost over. The torpedo bombers took them by surprise, and Prince was taken down first.

Repulse didn't want to die, he couldn't die here! There was still a war to win, dammit!

HMS Express raised her pistols to the sky and opened fire, taking out a squadron of Betty torpedo bombers. She looked over at Repulse, motioning him to move left.

Repulse did so, another torpedo skimming harmlessly past him. Blimey, there was no way he could keep this up. They were everywhere! He suddenly felt a searing pain in his back. He felt blood pouring out of at least 5 wounds, hinting at the cause.

Express gasped and attempted to catch her bigger contemporary as he fell to his knees. The mute frantically shook her head 'no'.

Repulse smirked, looking at the rest of the ships fighting desperately for survival. They could do it. He knew they could. He looked at his little friend, who was about to cry.

"Hey... kiddo. Get out of here. You'll die if you stay."

She shook her head.

He chuckled, gently pushing her aside. "Go on. Save whatever you can."

LOCATION: KURE NAVAL BASE.

Kongou sipped her tea nervously, awaiting news on the battles in British Malaya. Her friend Akagi had the radio now, and was getting the news and relaying it to the rest of the girls. Suddenly, there was a cry of joy from her general direction.

Kongou sighed as she looked at the plate of unfinished scones. "What is it, Akagi?"

The carrier bursts in, her hands thrown up in joy. "They sunk two battlecruisers in the South China today!"

There was an air of silence.

Minekaze tilted her head. "Which ones?"

"I-58 said it was Prince of Wales and… I think it was… Repulse, or something?"

Kongou's emotions were mixed. On the one hand, she was relieved- that she'd never have to fire her guns at him, that neither of them would never have to face that guilt- but on the other, she wanted to cry. The one she l- _cared for_ \- was dead. They'd never laugh over tea, and talk about silly things; they would never embrace again; he would never go home.

But the worst part was that she'd never get to tell him…

No.

Let's forget that ever happened.


End file.
